


Pretty Little Bartender

by orphan_account



Category: Chicago PD (TV), Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crossover, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 03:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20128618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Antonio meets a mysterious man while picking up shifts at a dive bar.





	Pretty Little Bartender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sanlian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanlian/gifts).

> Thanks to Bon for commissioning me! I hope you enjoy it.

Out of any bar in Chicago, the one Antonio picked up shifts at was probably the worst. It was just as sticky and beer stained as the rest of them, with a thick odor of cigarette smoke overlaid over the worst of the smells. But they had a different level of scummy clientele. They weren’t just gangbangers or drug dealers, but instead sleazy business men and famous traffickers. At least these criminals had good money. And Antonio knew it was a necessary evil to pay the bills, and Antonio could flutter his lashes enough for good tips and returning customers.

He was working the closing shift the first night he saw the new tall dark and handsome client. He was half bent over the bar and chatting with a depressed blue collar worker who was about to be cut off, when the man walked in. Antonio didn’t look away from the man he was working on for a large tip, but he felt the temperature of the room drop. A ripple fluttered through the bar, conversations dipping into lower tones before picking back up. “One more, and then I’ll call a taxi.” The nameless man promised him. Antonio acquiesced and grabbed another glass. He poured the man a finger or two of whiskey and bussed his empty drinks, before surveying the bar.

His eyes immediately caught on the man that had everyone choking on their tongues. Antonio understood why. He was well put together, a look that came naturally with the cut of his jaw and cheekbones. Darkness clung to him, glinting off his slick hair and collecting in his deep eyes. Antonio nearly swallowed his own tongue as the new customer looked to him, the flat line of his lips nearly pulling into a smile as Antonio drew toward him. He was dressed in a crisp charcoal gray suit. The night was winding down and the day was long done, but he still looked freshly dressed. His shirt was starched and his tie was knotted securely around his throat. Antonio shook himself out of the strange stupor, before shifting over to the man’s side of the bar.

“How can I help you, stranger?” He turned on the charm, trying to find his footing. Not only was the older man crisp and intimidating, but Antonio swore he could recognize him from somewhere. Almost every one of his customers had some sort of facial recognition to him. He had seen many of their mugshots at one point or another.

The man laced his fingers together. He was wearing a wedding band. “Give me your nicest bourbon.”

Antonio grinned. “I’m afraid none of it is very nice.” The man humored him with a vague smile. It made Antonio feel like he was crawling out of his skin. 

He was good at his job. Both of his jobs. But something about this man made him feel like a fish out of water, or a 21 year old bartender on his first day. Instead of needling him for details of his profession, or trying to form a personal connection that promised a large tip, Antonio was silent as he flipped a glass onto the bar and poured him three fingers of their priciest liquor. 

The man hummed his approval as he took his first sip, and something about that smokey sound made the back of Antonio’s neck feel hot. He reshelved the bottle as he asked, “Would you like to open a tab?” 

“Oh, no.” He was patronizing Antonio. Like everyone else in the bar didn’t have a tab that ran over several weeks until they were beaten out of their money. He turned around to give the price, only to be faced with the man reaching into the inside of his blazer and brandishing a cash clip. The silver clip was clamped around several hundreds and twenties. That was the type of money that would get him mugged outside. But he was unworried as he pulled two crisp bills and dropped them on the bar. Antonio swallowed and snagged the forty dollars, sliding it into the till and moving to make change. “Keep it.” His head snapped up and he found the corner of the stranger’s mouth quirked. Antonio wondered if he was actually blushing like a schoolgirl. He hoped not.

The man stood from the bar and found an empty table in the back of the room. It took Antonio a few moments to swallow his weird nervousness and remember how to do his job. He found his stride eventually, ushering the businessman out once he closed his tab. After that, he kept an eye on his rowdy customers and made some headway on the work he’d continue after the bar closed. Even so, the stranger’s gaze was a heavy weight on Antonio’s shoulders. He didn’t know his name, he couldn’t recognize him clearly, and still, Antonio was tripping over his feet and nearly dropping glasses. Just from his presence. 

He announced last call and closed tabs as most of the men left. By the time he had space to breathe and look toward the back of the room again, the stranger was gone. Antonio breathed easily as he finished out the night and closed up. 

He didn’t think much of the encounter until his next shift, and the man showed up again. It was the same performance, in his fancy dress and wolfish smile. He flashed his money and stayed far away from the bar, but Antonio knew his stare as the bar slowly emptied. He was gone before he shouted last call. 

Antonio started to expect him showing up during his shifts. And most of the time he was reliable. He still didn’t know the man’s name, couldn’t remember where he knew him from. But he knew that the stranger would come in and order, pay with a hefty tip and sit in the back of the bar. If Antonio was working with another bartender, he would only stay long enough to finish his drink. If he was alone, there was the promise of being watched closely and usually Antonio fumbling over himself. He had the sense that he should have been more threatened by the man’s presence or his insistent watching. But he never did anything out of line. Antonio couldn’t conjure a criminal record or mugshot. Even calling him an acquaintance would have been generous. But Antonio was comfortable around him. 

Which was probably why he found himself alone in the bar with the mysterious watcher. He had already announced last call. And then a ten minute warning. His normal customers dutifully shuffled out with their payments. But Antonio’s comfortable stranger hadn’t moved. And for some reason, he hadn’t made a move to kick him out. 

The clock ticked closer to closing, and instead of the man leaving like he normally would, he picked up his empty glass and moved toward the bar. Antonio was attempting to scrub the grime off the counter, a fool’s errand really, when the man sat down a few feet away from him. Antonio nearly jumped out of his skin when the man set his glass down, sending a vibration through the wood’s length.

“I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced.”

Antonio snuck a glance at him. He hadn’t expected the man to be staring directly at him, dark eyes flashing. He swallowed. “I don’t think so either. My name’s Antonio.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Antonio.” The words dripped from his tongue like dark molasses. Antonio wanted to hear his name roll off the man’s tongue as often as possible. “You can call me Hiram.”

“Nice to meet you.” He tried to keep his tone curt. He was closing. There was no reason for the man to be here at all, much less making small talk. 

Antonio realized he should have kicked the man out much earlier once he saw the way his tongue swept over his lips before he said, “When do you close?”

He rag he was using to wipe down the bar was disgusting. And Antonio’s teeth sunk into the inside of his cheek. “Five minutes ago.” Now he resolutely avoided Hiram’s stare, blood rushing to his face. He couldn’t explain why the admission made him so hot under the collar. For all Hiram knew, Antonio let unreasonably attractive rich men stay late at the bar all the time. But one more glance at the man told Antonio that he saw right through him. And he was finding himself in an increasingly sticky situation. 

In a one on one fight, even without a weapon, Antonio could easily hold his own. He wasn’t worried about that. He was worried about the influence this man could carry, the threat he could hold over the bar, over Antonio’s estranged family. He curled the rag tighter in his fist, turning away from Hiram to duck behind the racks of alcohol and into the back room. 

He tossed the dirty fabric in the direction of the hamper, already full of dirty aprons and cleaning cloths. It was much easier to breathe without Hiram so close to him. He could clear his mind in between metal racks of booze and cleaning materials. Even so, it was hard to focus on what he needed to do when he was busy berating himself. How could he ever have gotten comfortable with this man? Antonio didn’t know anything about him, and considering the clientele of the bar, he could be terribly dangerous. He inhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. Now wasn’t the time. He needed to figure out how to get this man out of the bar, close up and get home without being hurt.

Antonio steeled himself, and ripped open a fresh bag of cleaning cloths. He grabbed one and threw it over his shoulder, turning to the door of the small room, only to find it blocked. Hiram filled the doorway with his presence and his stature. All of Antonio’s plans evaporated from his mind as Hiram took a step toward him. 

“Do you have a habit of letting your customers stay after closing?” Hiram’s voice was even silkier in the small space, seeming to echo off the walls and close in around Antonio.

“No.” He tried to make his tone threatening, but it seemed pathetically small under the weight of Hiram, beginning to surround him.

Hiram closed the door behind him, the snick of the lock making Antonio’s throat feel like it was swelling shut. There was no one left in the bar to hear them. The only reason Hiram was bothering to close it was to eliminate any chance of Antonio escaping. He could have been planning to do anything to Antonio, but with the glint in his eye, Antonio had a feeling that whatever Hiram was planning wouldn’t be violent. He blamed crossed wires and years of violent police work for the way his cock began to thicken when the imposing figure advanced on him. “No?” Hiram’s lips quirked into a little smirk, and Antonio’s stomach churned. “But you don’t seem to be complaining with this turn of events.”

Antonio’s jaw clenched. He wanted to be angry or offended, but Hiram was too convincing, too intoxicating. And when the space between them was finally closed, all he could do was tilt his head back and let their lips crash together. Hiram licked into his mouth, hands curling tight around his hips to back him into one of the racks. The metal dug uncomfortably into his spine, but then Hiram was kneading at his ass and nipping at his bottom lip and Antonio didn’t have any further complaints. 

His hands were all over Antonio, scrambling his mind quickly as his skin scorched with heat. He could barely even reciprocate or think of pushing Hiram away. He touched Antonio like he already belonged to him, like he was bound to love whatever was done to him. Even more sickening was the fact that he could have fought him off, knocked him to the ground long enough to escape the room. He conjured thoughts like that, only to have Hiram’s fingers dig into his sensitive hip bones, his mouth leaving a burning trail of kisses down his throat, and Antonio was pliant for him again.

Antonio began tugging at their clothes, untucking Hiram’s shirt and pulling at his own belt. It was almost an out of body experience. It felt like he was looking down on himself being completely owned and dominated by a man he didn’t even know. His head spun as Hiram turned him around and made him bend over. Antonio didn’t even fight it, just bit down on his tongue when Hiram wrenched his jeans down his legs and gripped the bars of the metal rack.

The maelstrom of heat and action paused for a moment, behind him clothes rustled and then Hiram was dragging his boxers down and gripping at his ass. His hands were warm and soft. Antonio could feel the cool imprints of his rings against his skin, and he pushed back into the touch. Embarrassment had been burned away, replaced by hazy arousal that he leaned into. The less he thought about what was happening the better.

Hiram stepped even closer, his thighs pressing against Antonio’s, and then the heavy length of his cock was pressing between Antonio’s cheeks. He groaned. Hiram was thick and hot against him. He gripped either side of Antonio’s ass, pressing the flesh together and rutting between it. Every movement had the head of his cock rubbing over Antonio’s hole and smearing it with pre-come. His hands spasmed around the metal bars, hitching his hips back into Hiram’s ministrations. If this was all they would do, he couldn’t be too upset about it. Pleasure licked at his nerves, even with his cock still trapped in the tangled fabric of his jeans and boxers. 

Hiram rutted against him a few more times, before pulling back. “Don’t get too excited now.” Antonio grinned deliriously at himself when he heard the breathlessness of Hiram’s voice. Antonio shifted on his feet, a bit confused with the lack of contact. And then two of Hiram’s fingers were probing between his cheeks, slick and cold as they rubbed over Antonio’s hole.

He gasped, teeth sinking hard into his bottom lip as the digits massaged at his hole for a moment, before one pressed inside. “You always carry lube with you?” He was rewarded with a huffing laugh from Hiram and his finger twisting to hook into Antonio’s prostate.

“Only when I think I’m gonna fuck pretty little bartenders.” Antonio was about to correct him, tell Hiram that he wasn’t small in any sense of the word, but then another finger was screwing into his hole much too soon for comfort. His hips bucked against his will, revealing just a bit too much of his pleasure, much to Hiram’s enjoyment. His hand pressed low on Antonio’s back, holding him in place as he fucked his fingers deep inside him, scissoring him open to stretch him as quick as possible. Antonio could feel his rings pressing cold against his rim and he was beginning to feel lightheaded from the pleasure. 

His cock was dripping, making his boxers damp as Hiram pulled his two fingers back. Antonio expected a third to join them, but instead the head of Hiram’s cock was tapping against his entrance. He hissed, hips shifting away from the threatening intrusion. He surely wasn’t expecting the movement to be followed by the crack of Hiram’s palm across his ass. Burning pain radiated from the smack, and instead of reducing the pleasure, the feeling only sharpened it making him feel light headed as Hiram’s cock continued to press against him.

“You’re ready for it, aren’t you Antonio?” There was his name again, sounding like pure sex when it rolled from Hiram’s tongue. “I don’t have to waste anymore time, right?”

In any other situation, he would have snarked back, demanded better. But instead, his knees felt weak under him, and the only thing he wanted was Hiram’s cock inside of him. Even if he was far from prepared for the thick length. He sucked in a heavy breath, head hanging forward. Sweat dripped down the bridge of his nose and made his hands slippery. To Hiram’s credit, he didn’t start pushing inside while Antonio debated. Only kept the head against his hole like a threat.

Finally, Antonio swallowed and managed to speak. “Yeah. I’m ready. Just use a lot of lube.” Hiram hummed, and then sighed, like slicking up his cock was a true inconvenience. Even so, he listened to Antonio, no matter how put upon he acted. And a moment later, the head of his cock was back against him. But this time, it wasn’t just resting there, but attempting to force its way inside, slick and hot.

Antonio nearly choked on his tongue, bone deep pain curling around his nerves and making him feel overwhelmed and jittery. He tried to relax around the insistent stretch, huffing out quick little breaths as his hole spasmed and loosened incrementally. Hiram petted at his back, rocking his hips until half his cock was sheathed inside of Antonio. It was only then, with the steady drag of his cock inside of him, that Antonio realized he wasn’t wearing a condom. 

He struggled vaguely, but was pinned so easily, it was humiliating. All Hiram had to do was fuck his cock deeper inside of him and press on the small of his back, and Antonio was pliant for him again. “You’re so fucking tight,” Hiram grunted. Antonio was panting, hips arching into his short little thrusts even as worry burned through him. “I’m not gonna last long.”

Antonio didn’t know whether to be grateful or disappointed at that. “You aren’t… wearing a condom.” It took all his energy to jam the words from between his teeth, speech slurred by the pleasure licking through him.

“Yeah.” Hiram’s thrusts sped. And suddenly Antonio wasn’t far off from coming either, even without a hand around his cock. “Wanted to spill inside you.” Antonio’s eyes clenched shut. It shouldn’t have been hot, and yet he felt his skin prickling, belly tightening as his orgasm crept up on him. Hiram’s hands clamped around his waist, dragging Antonio back onto his cock as he grunted and groaned. Antonio reached down and curled a hand around his cock, jerking himself quickly until noises burst from his throat and he came all over his fist.

Hiram wasn’t far behind, his hips smacked bruisingly against Antonio’s ass a few more times, before he came deep inside him--hot and sticky. Antonio’s knees went weak and he gripped the rack in front of him in an attempt to stay standing. Hiram pulled out of him, and cleaned himself up with a quick, clinical accuracy. He tapped Antonio’s ass, appraising him quietly before walking toward the door. Before he left the room, he spoke. “I hope I can get the same treatment the next time I come in for a drink.”

And then Antonio was alone, veins thrumming through the last of his pleasure, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to resist the man the next time he showed up. 


End file.
